


Actions Lie Louder Than Words

by parvissira



Category: The Guild
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parvissira/pseuds/parvissira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To get her job back on track Codex pretends to have a boyfriend...which is fine until she actually has to bring him to the season opening gala. The Guild. Codex/Fawkes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Actions Lie Louder Than Words

The heavy cream envelope stood taunting her. It’s beautiful heavyweight paper and embossed lettering did not fill her with joy but rather a sense of dread. She knew what was inside of it. She knew what she needed to do. She just didn’t know how to manufacture a fake person out of thin air.

* * *

Clara, Tink, and Zaboo were over for one of their biweekly spa days. He had enjoyed the mudmask so much that two weeks later he showed up with more mudmask and some paraffin wax. Once Clara had heard about it she insisted on coming to have some mommy-free time as she called it and, surprisingly, Tink even stopped by on occasion. Cyd was actually having a pretty nice time. She still was broke and living off of occasional gigs and festivals but she had to hand it to her ex-therapist having a socially approved support system in real life was kind of awesome.

All of a sudden the phone rang.

“Who would be calling me? Every one that would call me is here,” Cyd said.

“Ooh! Maybe it’s Fawkes trying to get you to go out with him again.”

“I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed Clara,” Cyd ignored the small pain that this caused. Except for the guild torture and real life trolling she had a good time with him—but then that was a pretty big except.

She contemplated not answering it, but then realized she was lying to herself if she thought she could actually ignore the phone.

She picked it up and immediately took it into the other room so her guildies only heard her side of the conversation.

“Yes.”

“ Oh really, that’s horrible.”

“I’d love to.”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I’m completely over that.” Clara, Tink, and Zaboo all exchanged a look as they realized Codex had her “lying” voice on.

“No really, I’ve actually been seeing someone for a while.” Their eyebrows rose higher, this was going to be a good story.

“Yeah, we’re really serious. I’m completely over him. In fact my new boyfriend is so amazing I don’t even think about him at all.”

“Great. I’ll see you on Monday morning. Thank you so much.”

With that Cyd hung up the phone and ran back into her bedroom.

“OMG! I have my job back! The replacement violinist they found for me had a tragic lawn mowing accident and they promised me my job back as long as I was over Gunther.”

“That’s a little morbid to be so excited about that much destruction. I think you just got a bit cooler in my eyes.”

“Tink, I feel bad for her. It’s just I just am going to have a job again and get paid real money. Woohoo!”

“So, Codex, who is your new boyfriend?” Clara questioned.

“Um, no one. I just followed your advice and lied. Plus it’s not like they are going to make me produce one on demand.”

* * *

Except, now they kind of were.

The rest of the orchestra had been, surprised to see her back but since everything she did since she left was either practicing her violin or Game related she was still a strong violinist and while Gunther and his new boyfriend, the oboist, gave her dirty looks the rest of the orchestra relaxed—especially once she told them all about her new boyfriend.

And that is where the seeds of her destruction were sown.

Turns out the contrabassoon player had seen her with Fawkes at Renata’s. Since she didn’t want to appear as a ho-diddy-hoebag to either her guild or now the orchestra she had to lie even further and say that of course he was her boyfriend. The contrabassoon player even went so far to compliment her and Fawkes saying they had far more chemistry than he had ever seen between her and the cellist.

She laughed a bit nervously and at the time she had comforted herself by saying that no one brought their significant others to rehearsal so she’d never have to produce Fawkes. And then in a few months after the rest of the orchestra felt comfortable with her and the wary and cautious looks she got any time she made a sudden move faded she could pretend break up with her pretend boyfriend. Right?

Except now the invitation taunted her.

She knew what it was. Every year the orchestra held a big fundraising gala. Normally only musicians were expected to attend and mingle with their donors. But, they had a new director of advancement and her big idea was to let people meet the families of the musicians in an attempt to humanize the orchestra and increase giving.

And, if it wasn’t her first time back since the ”incident” she could probably have even made up a new lie as to why he couldn’t come. But with the drama so fresh in the orchestra’s mind she had to produce her date—not just any date—the date the contrabassoon player had seen her with all that time ago.

Which meant that, yes, she was going to have to convince Fawkes to come with her to the Gala and not completely embarrass her like he did at Mrs. Zaboo’s birthday dinner.

Cyd knew by the sinking feeling in her very bones that she was doomed.

* * *

It was another mudmask day. This week they were doing mudmasks and then later having a LAN party to go explore the new Swamps of Tarapin expansion. As Zaboo would say, Themed’d. No, Cyd corrected he probable wouldn’t because that was a d followed by a d which was just awkward. Maybe expansion’d? Agh! She couldn’t even get her inner Zaboo voice right, how was she going to get Fawkes to not only agree to accompany her but also not completely sabotage her career.

“What’s wrong best friend-ie? You seem sad.”

“Remember when I got my old job back my lying about having a boyfriend? Well, now I have to produce the mythical him.”

“That’s not hard, best friend, I’ll pretend to be him. Solved’d!”

“Except one of the orchestra members saw me and Fawkes at Renata’s and I figured I had already lied so what was one more lie and now they think Fawkes is my super serious boyfriend.”

“In short, you’re screwed.”

“Thanks Tink, I knew that.”

“Oh Codex, your life is just like a soap opera sometimes. Enemies become lovers become enemies again. And now the fake dating—yay! “

“I’m glad my life can amuse you Clara.”

“Didn’t he ask you out again?” Tink asked while she was busy texting.

“Yeah, but then Jeanette beat him up and I haven’t talked with them since. I think he might be mad at me.”

“Well, Venom says Fawkes hasn’t been bragging about any girls since the beat down at Cheeseybeards. You have that pale chic thing going on and are not completely unfortunately looking, tell him his chance for the second date is this fundraiser thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“You could always try to bribe him if it doesn’t.”

With a plan in place, Cyd felt a bit more confident and they went into the Swamps and had a nice time escaping into Codex for a minute or two or, you know, a couple of hours.

After they’d gone up against the mythical swampbeast of tarapin, the rest of the guild signed off and Cyd found herself gathering potions ingredients in the new area. Call her cheap but she wasn’t wasting her hard earned gold buying potion ingredients she could just as easily gather.

Inventory full of berries and herbs she saw a familiar mastodon riding across the swamps and figured no time like the present to try to implement her plan so she typed /wave

Fawkes and the rest of the Axis rode right by. He didn’t respond but she didn’t even know their avatars could emote the rude gesture that Valkyrie responded with.

Right, Cyd thought. Maybe a more personal approach would be better. In game chat it was.

Codex: Hey Fawkes, saw you riding through the swamps. How did you like the expansion?  
Fawkes: One of the best rules in conversation is never to say a thing which any of the company can reasonable wish had been left unsaid. Jonathan Swift.  
Codex: Right, well, um. I just thought I’d say hi! And ask how you were feeling? Jeanette looked like she had a wicked right hook.  
Fawkes: Is there a point to this? Or are you just trying to bring up bad memories.  
Codex: I didn’t mean it like that.  
Fawkes: I’m fine.  
Codex: So, um. I was wondering

“No!” Cyd thought, “I didn’t mean to push enter! I was going to retype that and not ask at all. I don’t know if I can do this.”

Fawkes: What were you wondering?  
Codex: Uh, it’s nothing.  
Fawkes: I have a feeling nothing wouldn’t have you trying to make conversation.  
Codex: Well, you remember Cheesybeards?  
Fawkes: I got bruises and there was fire. I don’t think I’ll forget.  
Codex: Remember what you said before the whole Jeanette thing.  
Fawkes: Again, I ask is there a point to this?  
Codex: Well, there is this thing coming up and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.  
Fawkes: Do you need a fake boyfriend again or do you actually want to date me.  
Codex: Um...well...  
Fawkes: I need inspiration, not just another negotiation. Music and Lyrics. Thanks for f*ing with my time.

Cyd cried out in frustration, “He blocked me. Right, well again that could have gone better. But he didn’t say no? Did he? “

She had continued to gather berries and herbs while she ate her slowly melting butter pecan. Cyd still didn’t know what to do. He still seemed upset. And what in the world could she bribe him with. She needed him, at least as her date for this function and—a tiny treacherous corner of her mind supplied—maybe for more. Yes, he was being prickly but she had rejected him several times and insulted him even more than that.

Maybe he had a point?

But then she thought of how happy being back in the orchestra made her and how happy she was to be more than an unemployed gamer. She would convince him—she just had to.

Being friends with Zaboo really did have some perks. She found out that the Axis of Anarchy had their weekly meeting the next day at 3pm.

She put on the outfit Clara and Tink had put her in for the whole disastrous Wade situation and felt a tiny bit naked. Some how even though he had even seen her with her clothes off, she wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her so exposed.

“Surprise! I brought you brownies!” Cyd slid into the internet café where they liked to meet and tried to give her biggest smile.

The Axis looked up and her smile started to waiver a bit.

“There better be arsenic in those brownies because if there isn’t I don’t think I can stand the sight of you.” Venom shot from her station.

Fawkes was looking at her with a look she wasn’t sure she had ever seen on his face before. She’d seen it when he thought she was pitiful; when he thought she was hot; when he thought she was being a pushover; and when he thought she was being ridiculous. But this was something new.

“Anybody who believes that the way to a man’s hear is through his stomach flunked geography. Robert Byrne.”

“I just thought they might be nice for your raid. Plus, I thought maybe we could talk more about what we talked about earlier.”

“I want a real date. You want a fake date. What else is there to talk about?” Cyd was a bit surprised that Fawkes still seemed to want to date her and seemed to be more upset by the fact that it was a fake date situation again.

“It’s just one event and then we could part ways.” Oops, judging by the look on Fawkes’ face that seemed to be exactly the wrong thing to say.

“Until the next time you need a fake date. What the f*ck Codex. You’ve begged me to date you twice now and yet when I asked you out you called me a d-bag. Am I only good enough to fake date? I like meta moments as much as the next person but this isn’t meta, this is just cruel.”

“Please...it’s not just for the event. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything within reason?” Cyd’s voice climbed up into a questioning and quivering tone at the end of that statement. She was so close to breaking. So close to crying in front of him and she was sure he could see if on her face. She had already lost her pride, she couldn’t cry in front of him.

“Nevermind, I thought you liked me and I had such a good time with you but then there was Jeanette and that furry and being mean to my guild. I just really don’t want to be the psycho arsonist ex-girlfriend anymore. But I can see this is just isn’t going to work.” And with that she rushed out into the alleyway to try to stop the tears that threatened to overflow.

Doomed. She was doomed. That’s all there was to it, she was absolutely doomed. She sat on the curb not even caring that she was probably getting freckles all over.

“Pyscho arsonist ex-girlfriend?”

She looked up and there was Fawkes. Her heartbeat seemed to stop in her chest. Stupid gamer boy and his cuteness.

“I kind of burned some of my ex-boyfriend’s stuff”

“A Knight of Good being so wild and bad—I never knew you were that interesting. You shouldn’t be afraid of it. Embrace it.”

“I don’t want them to stare at me like I’m going to start lighting everything I see on fire anymore.”

“Why do you even have to hang out with your ex-boyfriend?”

“Work...I finally got my old job back.”

“Why me and not Zaboo—he’s clearly not over you.”

“One of my co-workers saw me with you and I didn’t want to damage my reputation even more.” Fawkes looked slightly hurt at that, but continued on.

“You really meant it when you said you’d do anything?”

Cyd looked up, starting to get just maybe the tiniest bit hopeful. He had come out to the alleyway. He was still talking with her. And he had talked about actually wanting to date her. “Anything.”

“Go out with me again. Go out with me for real. I’ll bring thai food over at seven and we can discuss the logistics of this likely massively flawed plan.”

* * *

Cyd had changed out of her ho-bag outfit, though now that she thought about it the outfit hadn’t appeared to work either time she wore it so maybe she should stick with her regular clothes. That certainly seemed to work on Fawkes last time or, the clothes and that pitcher of margaritas.

And amazingly Fawkes was there promptly at seven carrying bags of pad thai and spring rolls. Part of the grown up food Cyd always imagined she would have when she dated someone. And she gave him the break down—except even in this situation she didn’t quite say what it was she did. She abstracted it away for it was always work and co-workers not orchestra and musicians. Cyd had no clue why. She even called the gala a big work party, which it was but that wasn’t the truth.

Maybe it was that playing the violin was so personal to her.

Maybe it was that playing the violin was so intimate to her.

Maybe she just wasn’t ready to share.

Either way even with her slight obfuscation Fawkes eventually agreed to accompany her to the shindig. He even promised to not embarrass her—in return for more dates. So she was bowling with him on Tuesday; going out for Ethopian on Thursday; playing paintball with him and the rest of the Axis on Saturday; going on a picnic with him on Sunday; and going back to Renata’s on Wednesday before the big Friday night gala.

Cyd still had time to practice; still had time to game; and still had time for almost everything it was as if Fawkes had just fit seamlessly into her life.

All said it was quite odd.

Bowling was fun. She was a horrible bowler, but Fawkes had a chance to wrap his arms around her as he tried to guide her into how to bowl, which set her alight with that familiar fire in her nerves. And then they went out for ice cream at the local ice cream shop, which had surprisingly good butter pecan. She wondered how he knew that was her favorite or if it was just luck.

Ethiopian was spicy and an adventure. By the end of the night she was eating out of Fawkes’ hand. It was on this second date that she realized that he hadn’t even kissed her yet. And while his touches were getting more concentrated, more calculated, more continuous, he still didn’t kiss her at the end of the night.

Paintball with the Axis was an experience. They clearly still had some unresolved aggression towards her. But she, Fawkes, and—surprisingly—Valkyrie ended up dominating. Though that might have been because Riley and Venom stopped half-way through to start making out.

Her nerves were strung tighter than her violin by the time Sunday rolled around. Three whole dates (four if you counted when he brought over Thai) and he hadn’t kissed her. Three dates filled with casual intimate touches, her back, her neck, and her face but nothing that fulfilled her wish for him to kiss her. Because, by this time she was realizing that she wanted him. Wanted him more than as a fake date. Wanted him more than as a date for the gala. Wanted just him.

The picnic progressed as all the other dates had so far with an utterly frustrating lack of his lips on hers. They were in the middle of botanical garden that she swore he had pulled this straight out of one of romance novels on her bedside table when she finally broke.

“Our first time at Renata’s all it took was me asking if you wanted to take my armor off and you were all over it. We’ve been on how many dates and you haven’t even kissed me again! Is there something I’m doing wrong?”

“I was just waiting for that.”

“What?”

“We must let go of the life we have planned, so to as accept the life that is waiting for us. Joseph Campbell. I wanted to date you and I wanted you interested—not because you need a date for Friday and not because we agreed on it but because you wanted me. It worked all as I planned.”

“You’re so...”

“Charming, delightful, enflaming...”

“Arrogant!”

“It isn’t arrogance if you can deliver on it.”

And with that he pulled her close and the kiss they shared in broad daylight was far better than anything they had shared in their night together. Cyd’s world shrank to the feel of his lips, the brush of his beard, and the overwhelming presence of him. She remembered exactly why she had wanted to date him after their last tryst.

Needless to say the rest of their picnic passed so quickly that Cyd barely recognized the time as it spun increasingly faster.

Wednesday found them at Renata’s back where it all began. Except this time Cyd was ready for it and wasn’t going to panic the night after—if it got that far. As they walked into the bar area Cyd looked around and wanted to find a hole to hide in. There across the bar was the contrabassoon player who, apparently, lived at Renata’s.

“Cyd!,” the contrabassoonist boomed—he was perhaps a bit deep in his cups.

“Hey, how are you? What are you doing here?”

“The usual, you know. And here’s the mystery fellow that makes you happier than Gunther.”

Fawkes looked up at her with a quirked eyebrow. She had mentioned her ex-boyfriend, but not much about him. He whispered in her ear, “you dated someone named Gunther? Let me guess, he’s not even German, is he?”

“Aww! Look at the two of you! I always thought that Cyd and Gunther were a horrible match....sorry Cyd...but you two are adorable,” the contrabassoonist was a happy drunk and couldn’t contain himself.

“Well, my table has just been called. See you on the Gala on Friday. The rest of the orchestra can’t wait to meet you.”

Fawkes’s only response was “orchestra? I thought you said this was a work party.”

* * *

Friday night arrived and Cyd was nervous. Not the nervous of not having a date but the nervous of having a date, of having a date she liked, and of having a date that set her alight with passion at the smallest touch.

Now that she was actually earning money again and had gotten her first couple paychecks she had even bought a new dress. Tink and Clara had even helped her pick it out. It was a gorgeous grey silk with pleats and just a hint of beading. She felt all grown up and fancy. And Clara was an absolute wizard with hair and makeup...apparently all that time spent cheerleading in high school and college had taught her all the intricacies of womanhood that still escaped Cyd some times. Her hair was twisted on top her head in a chic twist, her makeup was subtle and yet brought out her eyes. Cyd didn’t think she had looked so nice for a gala—or really ever—before.

And there was the doorbell.

Her stomach and nerves rose up like an ocean wave and she forced herself to breath out and answer the door.

As pretty as she felt it was nothing to how handsome she found Fawkes as he answered the door. His utility kilt and tee shirt had been replaced by a suit that fit him perfectly—she kind of wanted to grab his tie, pull him into her apartment, and never even make it to the gala. Then again, judging by the somewhat leering look on his face she figured that he might have felt the same away about her in that instance.

“Beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, but rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear. But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. Kahil Gibran. Also, I brought you these.”

They were flowers. Calla lilies and, it looked liked, phlox? It had been a while since Cyd recognized flowers on sight. She wanted to say something, something to show how much this meant, something to show how happy she was, and something to show that tonight wasn’t the end of this—but the words stuck in her throat and all she could do was smile up and gently touch his face before she went to the kitchen to look for something to use as a vase.

She continued in her quiet mode through the whole ride to the gala. Fawkes occasionally glanced over with a slightly smug look on his face but all in all their silence was comfortable as the miles slipped by.

“Turn right here.”

“That’s the performing arts center.”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“You are in The Orchestra?”

“Yes, I’m a violinist.”

“Well then, we are going to be running into people I know.”

“What? You don’t mind?”

“Seriously Codex, you need to understand that this isn’t a fake date. I wanted to date you and that means I’m dating you and not ashamed of you. Besides, some of my partners are donors. They are going to laugh themselves silly, I always beg out of things like this.”

Once he had started mentioning that there were people that he might know there, the panic had started to set in. What if they saw through her. What if they didn’t like her. What if. What if. What if.

“Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“I can see in on your face. And while I’ve always found it a bit cute, ‘super serious boyfriends’ as I think you called me usually don’t cause that much panic for a simple night out.”

“But it’s more now.” And Cyd mentally cursed at herself because she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She hadn’t meant to tell him that her heart was right back in his hands.

“Muffin, you aren’t a good poker player. You think I didn’t know that? In case you forgot, I’m guild leader of the Axis of Anarchy—I can handle the relatively easy job of reading your face.”

Cyd frowned a bit at that. She wasn’t totally transparent, was she?

“Ah, hey there. Don’t be silly. You know I like your expressive face.”

Well, that answered that question.

Her nerves continued to mount. She had never really liked the galas in the first place. And now she had to face Gunther and the rest of the orchestra. Right before they entered the hall he pulled her close and kissed her sweetly on the cheek.

And it worked. Somehow with his hand in hers and his scent still in her nostrils she felt like she could do this. His whispered words of “we can down this boss together” might have helped a bit too.

So it was with a small smile and looking slightly up towards him that they walked in. She didn’t realize it but they had been spotted immediately and the orchestra breathed a collective sigh of relief as they realized that yes, Cyd wasn’t lying and she was dating someone and that if anyone was going to be burned it would be him not someone in the orchestra.

Some of them even looked at Cyd and Fawkes and found themselves agreeing with the contrabassoonist that the two of them looked much more comfortable and natural then Cyd and Gunther had—then again, since Gunther was now dating the male oboist perhaps that wasn’t such a big surprise.

With Fawkes at her side the Gala went more smoothly then it ever had before. With his arm around her waist she moved from conversation to conversation. With his hand on her back she found herself guided to the dinner tables where she did her best at humanizing the orchestra with the donors she sat with. It was a far cry from what she normally did which was hide in the corner or bathroom until the earliest she could leave.

She didn’t even notice Gunther much, though the angry blond man seemed to be scowling extra hard at her. And when he started to head their way Fawkes pulled her out on the dance floor where she found out another fun fact about him—he was a great dancer. The kind that leads so well that even inexperienced dancers like her could be swung out on the floor. Her world seemed to narrow just to him and the floor. She completely gave in and forgot about trying to censor her feelings, forgot about trying to worry about the orchestra and Gunter, and forgot about everything but the feel of his hand on her side and the music in her ears.

A few hours later she looked up and was surprised to see the gala in its final throes. Letting go had been one of the most relaxing things she had ever done—it was just about as fun as downing a new boss.

As fun as the party was there was no big show down, she didn’t have to prove that he was her date; there was no interrogation; and everything had gone so smoothly. This never happened to her.

“Stop being disappointed that this went so well.”

“Fawkes! I totally wasn’t.”

“You were. I could see it.”

“Maybe a little. You didn’t even need to use the dossier I made that outlined out fake relationship history and had all my background information in it.”

“You know I didn’t read that, right? I thought it was a bit neurotic.”

But even with his somewhat flippant answer he pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her head.

“Foolish girl. They believed us. Your orchestra has seen us and I highly doubt they’ll think you are about to go psycho-arsonist on anyone’s *ss. Now the true question comes. We could stop here, after all our bargain only goes this far—you could say our quest has ended. Or...,” Fawkes trailed off leaving her to step forward and be bold.

And while Cyd usually wasn’t that bold, after actually having to court him in a twisted way, after two weeks of dates that were filled with fun and sarcasm and where she could be her geeky self, and after a night spent where she wanted nothing more than to ask him back to take her armor off like he had all those months ago she was ready to a least be a little bold. Baby steps.

“Real date me? I still make good brownies.”

“Codex. We’ve been real dating these past two weeks. But muffin, I’ll raise you your obsession with brownies and ask if you want to come back to my place and take my armor off.”

And in a flipped situation of that night all those months ago she happily went home with him and saw his place for the first time. This time she didn’t freak out and leave before breakfast. This time she was playing for keeps.


End file.
